I simply could not fathom that our country would elect Donald Trump as our President. How. Did. This. Happen?

Somehow, just the right combination of GOP voters (shame on them!) + the poorly educated + neo-Nazis and white supremacists (sugar-coating themselves as the alt-right) who lived in the right places gave Trump just enough electoral votes to "win."

Now he is stocking the swamp. The parade of swamp monsters in line for cabinet positions at recent senate hearings has just been frightening. I keep pinching myself. Is this real life? Is this just fantasy?

Of course, every time I break into a cold sweat and start hyperventilating, I think of Emmett Lee Dickinson's poem "Escape is such a desperate Word" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "Escape is such a thankful Word" (below on the right). And I admit his poem inspires me too -- but not to escape. No, I'll continue to speak out and write poetry against the Swamp King who is bent on destroying our democracy.

Martin Luther King, Jr., said, "In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends" We cannot be silent. We must speak out. We must be vigilant.

​If' you're not horrified, you're part of the problem.​

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

Escape is such a desperate WordI often in the NightConsider it unto myselfNo solution in sight

Escape – we’re in a hand basketIn which the Country’s caughtWhen down into some UnderworldThe lot of Us are dropt –

’Tis no sight of a savior –Instead there’s just this hoax –And so I lay my head and hopeIt’s all just nasty jokes –

By Emily Dickinson:

Escape is such a thankful WordI often in the NightConsider it unto myselfNo spectacle in sight

Escape – it is the BasketIn which the Heart is caughtWhen down some awful BattlementThe rest of Life is dropt –

'Tis not to sight the savior –It is to be the saved –And that is why I lay my HeadUpon this trusty word –